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Oh, it is clear enough. It is from our friend Overton, and is in answer to a question from me. I'll just send round a note to Mr. Jeremy Dixon, and then I have no doubt that our luck will turn. By the way, is there any news of the match? Yes, the loc
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In that case, said I, we had best carry our breakfast with us, for he is making an early start. His carriage is at the door. Never mind. Let him go. He will be clever if he can drive where I cannot follow him. When you have finished come downstairs w
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This dtour has been entirely for our benefit, then? said Holmes. No wonder that my inquiries among those villages led to nothing. The doctor has certainly played the game for all it is worth, and one would like to know the reason for such elaborate d
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By Jove, the doctor is coming back! cried Holmes. That settles it. We are bound to see what it means before he comes. He opened the door and we stepped into the hall. The droning sound swelled louder upon our ears until it became one long, deep wail
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Excuse me, Dr. Armstrong, I think we are a little at cross-purposes, said my friend, with dignity. If you could step downstairs with us we may each be able to give some light to the other upon this miserable affair. A minute later the grim doctor and
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The Abbey Grange Arthur Conan Doyle It was on a bitterly cold and frosty morning during the winter of '97 that I was awakened by a tugging at my shoulder. It was Holmes. The candle in his hand shone upon his eager, stooping face and told me at a glan
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Yours faithfully, Stanley Hopkins. Hopkins has called me in seven times, and on each occasion his summons has been entirely justified, said Holmes. I fancy that every one of his cases has found its way into your collection, and I must admit, Watson,
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How can you possibly tell? By an inspection of the trains and by reckoning the time. The local police had to be called in, they had to communicate with Scotland Yard, Hopkins had to go out, and he in turn had to send for me. All that makes a fair nig
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Sir Eustace is dead, then? Yes; his head was knocked in with his own poker. Sir Eustace Brackenstall, the driver tells me. Exactlyone of the richest men in Kent. Lady Brackenstall is in the morning-room. Poor lady, she has had a most dreadful experie
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You have other injuries, madam! What is this? Two vivid red spots stood out on one of the white, round limbs. She hastily covered it. It is nothing. It has no connection with the hideous business of last night. If you and your friend will sit down I
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I will tell you about last night. You are aware, perhaps, that in this house all servants sleep in the modern wing. This central block is made up of the dwelling-rooms, with the kitchen behind and our bedroom above. My maid Theresa sleeps above my ro
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When I opened my eyes I found that they had collected the silver from the sideboard, and they had drawn a bottle of wine which stood there. Each of them had a glass in his hand. I have already told you, have I not, that one was elderly, with a beard,
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She has been with her all her life, said Hopkins. Nursed her as a baby, and came with her to England when they first left Australia eighteen months ago. Theresa Wright is her name, and the kind of maid you don't pick up nowadays. This way, Mr. Holmes
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It was the body of a tall, well-made man, about forty years of age. He lay upon his back, his face upturned, with his white teeth grinning through his short black beard. His two clenched hands were raised above his head, and a heavy blackthorn stick
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That is likely enough. If she seemed to be senseless they would not take her life. What about this poor fellow, Hopkins? I seem to have heard some queer stories about him. He was a good-hearted man when he was sober, but a perfect fiend when he was d